


Heart, We Will Forget Him!

by hambamthankyoumaam (Random13245)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Sad middle, based on a poem by Emily dickinson, sad beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random13245/pseuds/hambamthankyoumaam
Summary: Heart, we will forget him!You and I, to-night!You may forget the warmth he gave,I will forget the light.When you have done, pray tell me,That I my thoughts may dim;Haste! lest while you’re lagging,I may remember him!





	

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick lil bit of sadness based of one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems.

* _Heart, we will forget him!_  
* _You and I, to-night!_

His heart ached, pounding loudly in his chest as he opened the door to an empty and quiet apartment. He'd grown so accustomed to the presence of another person, but now it just seemed to be the ghost of lives once lived, now long gone. He could almost reach out and touch the memories, they were so real and fresh. But they weren't all pleasant to the touch. Some of them felt like touching hot wrought iron, scalding and bruising. The sounds of fighting haunted in the echoes of those memories. Others were sweet, warm. Like freshly baked cookies, or a comforting hug. Smiles and laughs echo in those.

* _You may forget the warmth he gave,_

The bed feels cold without him. No amount of blankets nor heat could ever equal to what it felt like to be held. To be loved. There is nothing that could even begin to replace that feeling.

It's a feeling of warmth that settles just beneath the skin, and holds your body heat hostage to it. When it evaporates, it takes any semblance of warmth or function with it.

* _I will forget the light._

He remembers tracing his fingers over freckles, like miniature constellations, all there for him to map out. And he does. He maps out each star and dot and every beautifully imperfect speckle of light. They light up his entire existence.

He loves him, he realizes in that moment, he's in love. It tastes sweet on his tongue, like ripe honeydew melon in the summertime, or a sugar-coated strawberries on a spring morning. He's not sure, yet, if he likes it, though. Maybe because he's scared the man next to him isn't tasting it too.

- _I love you._

- _I love you, too._

He definitely likes the sickly sweet taste of love.

* _When you have done, pray tell me,_  
* _That I my thoughts may dim;_

He wishes he could just place all these memories- both good and bad- in a box and place it atop a shelf, like a keepsakes box, and never open it back up again. He needs to forget, but he wants to remember. He wants to hold onto the good memories, he wants to live in the saying 'don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.' But he can't.

* _Haste! lest while you're lagging,_

He dreams of him, vivid and in living color. He dreams of the one time he'd been dragged out into the middle of the first spring rain.

- _Alexander, look, it's raining_

He never liked rain, and he made that known, but the look in the other man's eyes compelled him to follow. He allows himself to be pulled outside into the drizzling sky.

- _Dance with me_

He wants to say no, this is too cliche, almost straight out of a bad romance novel on the dollar shelf of the library.

- _This is silly, John._ He insists, but is dancing anyway.

When he wakes, the wounds are all reopened and he is bleeding.

* _I may remember him!_


End file.
